


Stars and Destiny

by jennifercharter



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-10
Updated: 2014-11-10
Packaged: 2018-02-24 21:47:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2597570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennifercharter/pseuds/jennifercharter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellamy worries that his conscience is starting to sound like Clarke.<br/>Of course, it could always be worse. He can’t think of how at the moment, exactly, but surely it could be worse.<br/>Set post 2.3</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stars and Destiny

**Author's Note:**

> I had to come in an edit this a little bit, sorry, there is nothing new if you have already read it. I always love comments letting me know if you liked it, though!

It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves. - William Shakespeare

 

Bellamy comes back to himself slowly, and the first thing that hits him is the silence. It’s the first time in a long time that it’s been so quiet. On the Ark it had been the hum of machinery. Earth had been full of new sounds that they had all adjusted to by now. People laughing, animals outside the walls, life itself.  
There’s none of that now.  
He blinks and realizes it’s night. His eyes pick out stars shining between the trees above him. They seem to move as his eyes adjust.  
 _Can you wish on this kind of shooting star?_  
He shakes his head at the memory and realizes something new.  
Everything hurts.  
He takes a deep quick breath before everything goes black again.

 

He and Miller were standing watch while some of the girls gathered water at the edge of the water. Other escorts were scattered between them and the river, to be sure no one could cut them off on their way to camp.  
Naturally, of course, the gathering of water had turned into a splashing and swimming event.  
Which, to be fair, was pretty much to be expected.  
Bellamy kept a sharp eye out for the escorts and for their princess medic, taking the opportunity to gather herbs and plants she needed. He was seriously starting to think the girl had a permanent stick up her ass, despite the fun she’d had shooting the rifle at the bunker. Clarke wasn’t in sight, but he knew at least she was near enough to call for help if necessary, and honestly, she could probably handle herself better than half the kids in camp.  
There was a sharp squeal and then peals of laughter and Bellamy couldn’t help but share a grin with Miller.  
Since the grounder had escaped there had been too much tension, and with Unity Day the next day he just knew it was best to get the chores done now, knowing Jasper and Monty had something planned for the next day.  
The cracking of a stick sounded in the woods and both boys stood straighter, alert. Nothing moved and they relaxed slightly, just as the girls squeals turned to alarmed shouts.  
Bellamy wasted no time, spinning and sprinting towards the water, hearing Miller right behind him. He emerged from the trees and found the girls in various states of dress, scrabbling to clothe themselves.  
Several, including Clarke, were armed with knives in hand and facing the woods to the east.  
“Grounders?” He shouted, gun up.  
Clarke snorted. “More like peeping tom.”  
He frowned, no less angry. “Who was it?”  
“Taylor, Tyler? Something like that,” she muttered, knife still out. He thought briefly of that moment over Atom, where she had had the strength to do what he couldn’t.  
“Taylor, the son of a bitch,” he muttered. “Let’s get back to camp,” he called, raising his voice. Everyone began to gather their water containers. He eyed Clarke warily. “You okay, Princess?”  
“Of course,” she said simply, slipping the knife back into its pouch at her waist and turning her eyes to him. “Don’t kill him.”  
He frowns, thinking that she hadn’t had a problem with Dax lying dead at their feet. “Did he see Octavia without clothes on?”  
“No, honestly,” she says and then caught herself and bent to pick up her pack, her voice trailing to silence.  
“Honestly what?”  
Clarke hesitates, but it doesn’t matter as Octavia stomps up to them. “He was following her through the woods. He didn’t even notice us until he came out of the trees.”  
There must be a murderous look on his face, because he certainly feels it under his skin, and Clarke barely glances at him before rushing to speak. “Nothing happened. I didn’t even know he was there.”  
“That somehow doesn’t reassure me,” he said dryly. “We’ll handle it.”  
“Don’t kill him,” she repeats softly, stepping closer the way she does when she’s trying to convince him of something truly important to her.  
“Taylor is a rapist,” he said coldly.  
“We should do more than talk to him,” Miller said menacingly.  
“No.” She looked Bellamy in the eye. “We make the rules remember? Together. No killing.”  
“Yeah? And if he’d gotten you alone, defenseless, and attacked you?”  
She hesitated and he almost smirked. “Exactly.”  
“Please, Bellamy,” she said quietly.  
He frowned. “We’ll see.”  
Taylor ends up getting assigned to digging latrines for his foreseeable future. If he starts his new task with a limp and bruises on his face, no one comments.  
And he sure as Hell never goes anywhere remotely near Clarke or Octavia again.  
Bellamy worries that his conscience is starting to have the disturbing trend of sounding a lot like Clarke.  
Of course, it could always be worse. He can’t think of how at the moment, exactly, but surely it could be worse.

 

He finds Sterling and Monroe on accident, stumbling through the brush in what he hoped was the right direction. He sees them before they see him and he hesitates, scanning the horizon for movement. Seeing none, he calls to them.  
They are almost ridiculous in how happy they are to see him.  
 _They were willing to fight and die for you,_ he remembers and sighs. All right, Princess, he thinks. I get it, no one left behind and all that.  
God, he hopes she made it out okay.  
And they set off for their home.

 

One of the younger kids had asthma. The sterile environment of the Ark had prevented any problem in the past.  
Earth was not so kind.  
He’s helping organize gun practice when Monty and Jasper rush out of the dropship and towards the gate.  
Tension is still high in camp in the wake of the virus that most people have started calling the Death. “What’s wrong?”  
“Clarke needs this,” Monty said breathlessly, waving a drawing of a plant at him. Bellamy is well aware of how much time she wastes sketching various things.  
“There’s a kid sick,” Jasper adds.  
“Sick?” Bellamy asks quietly.  
“Not like the Death,” Jasper explains and Bellamy winces at the name. Honestly, at least most of them are immune to it now, hopefully. “She’s having trouble breathing. The tea from the herb should help.”  
“Do it,” Bellamy said simply, and the boys scramble out of the gate, followed by the two nearest guards Bellamy can shove after them.  
Then he heads to the dropship to take in the scene. He’s actually grateful that maybe for the first time the dropship is mostly empty.  
She’s gasping and Bellamy can see the panic in Clarke’s face.  
She’s been so quiet since Unity Day. He’s the one that stood with her while they watched the dropship fall out of the sky and break her heart. He knew how to deal with Octavia’s hurts and fits, but was completely clueless on how to help this girl, so different from his sister. He stood at her back, hand on her shoulder, no idea what else to do, and let her cry.  
Others had come to check on them eventually and he had glared until they went away, until she had cried herself out. She had stood and looked at him, face puffy and damp, and wild panic in her eyes. He would have done anything to make that look go away, which was a terrifying thought.  
That same wildness is in her face again, and it’s him and her, and the gasping girl and her friends, and Bellamy realizes this will probably not end well before crossing the room and setting his hands on her shoulders. “Princess. Clarke. Are you with me?”  
“I don’t think I can do this,” she whispers. “I’ve never seen anything like this, just read about it.”  
“You reading about it is all we’ve got,” he says simply, bluntly. “Deep breaths, okay?”  
The wild look recedes a little and she nods. “Talk to her.”  
He blinks. “What?”  
“You’re good with kids, Bellamy,” she said simply as she ordered the girl’s friends out.  
“No, I was good with Octavia. Huge difference,” he tries to point out.  
She looks determined again and he will never admit how much just that reassured him. “Bellamy, talk to her, keep her calm, make sure she keeps breathing calmly. Her panic is going to kill her.” The words are an order and he sighs before settling into the chair across from the girl. Her eyes are wide and he tries racking his brain for her name with no luck. He shoots a vaguely panicked look at Clarke and to his surprise she smiled slightly.  
“Julia, Bellamy knows some great stories,” Clarke grins wider as both of them turn to stare at her, well, one stare, one glare. “Remember, he has a little sister. He must have told her all sorts of stories.” She begins heating the water for the tea she hopes she’ll be able to make as soon as Monty and Jasper return.  
The glower remained, but Julia looked curious now.  
“Deep calm breaths,” she says sternly.  
Bellamy sighs again and turned his look to Julia. “Deep calm breaths,” he mutters, and Julia huffs out a laugh. “Julia, huh?” At her nod he thinks a moment. “That means you must be descended from the Julii, maybe even from Caesar.”  
Julia blinks at him and he grins, thinking fast. “Don’t tell me you don’t know who Julius Caesar is?” She shakes her head slightly and he leans forward and grins. “Everyone should know who Julius Caesar is.”  
By the time Monty and Jasper return both girls are listening to him raptly, and while rasping and shallow, Julia’s breaths are calm.  
And for the next few days, until Clarke goes out hunting, she likes to tease him that at least one girl in the camp is in love with him.  
Being him, he reminds her that all of the girls in camp should be in love with him.  
She rolls her eyes and scoffs and means it when she does it, and he’ll miss that later.

 

Kane is going to let him rot in this room. It’s the Ark all over again, quite literally because the Ark fell to Earth, and all of its rules and idiocy came with it.  
 _I need you, we all need you. We can’t do this without you, Bellamy._  
The words are on a loop through his mind, during the interrogation, during Murphy being there, all of it.  
He has to go after them. He’d promised Jasper after all.  
So when Finn finally shows up he doesn’t even hesitate, although, let’s be honest, any chance to get out of there and he would have taken it.  
He’ll make her proud, and Jasper, and Monty and all the rest of them.

 

He thought, not for the first time, of killing Murphy in his sleep.  
Second chances, Clarke had said, and he reminded himself, again, of this, especially when he saw Murphy talking to his sister in the smokehouse.  
“It could be worse,” Clarke muttered from behind him.  
“How exactly?”  
“He could be hitting on her.”  
“How do you know he isn’t,” Bellamy growled, the idea making him feel murderous.  
Clarke snorted and and he looked at her, her amusement having startled the violence from him. “What?”  
“I know you two don’t see eye to eye a lot, especially lately. I think I read once that that’s normal for siblings. But I know you know her better than anyone, so just think for a minute. Do you actually believe she wouldn’t shut him down, fairly violently at that?”  
He grinned for a moment. “Very violently.”  
“Exactly.”  
He sobered. “She might also decide to take him up on his offer just to spite me.”  
“Oh, Bellamy,” she said mockingly and grinned at the glare he gave her. “She has some taste.”  
His eyebrows shot up and he frowned. “Her ‘taste’ led her straight to a Grounder.”  
“A Grounder who seemed to genuinely care about her and who saved her life.”  
He looked away from Clarke, watching his sister moving around. “She hates me for what I did to him.”  
“We.” At his confused look she shrugged. “We make the decisions together remember?”  
“I brought him in all on my own.”  
“And I stood at your side while we tortured him to save Finn.”  
“You didn’t torture him, I did.”  
“Are we seriously going to argue about this?” She stared at him, eyes drawn together.  
He was silent, because he’s done a lot of bad things since crashing here but few of them weigh on him like this one.  
If there is a God, he has no illusions about what waits for him after death, and death is a pretty constant companion in this place.  
“No,” he said finally. “No argument.” He shot her a sideways look, watching her as she watched the kids running around the camp, doing their various chores. After everything, he still thinks of her as good. He needs her to stay good, because she made him believe that maybe this was all worth it.  
“She loves you, don’t worry.”  
He huffed. “I’d be surprised.”  
“Then be surprised,” she said teasingly. “Sometimes the people we act like we hate the most are exactly the opposite.”  
He watched her track Finn’s movements across the camp. He wanted to ask her how that was going and at the same he tried not to care at all. Instead he smirked and bumped her arm gently with his own. “So does this mean you actually like me, Princess?”  
A heavy sigh is answer enough and he can’t help the short-lived smile on his face. “I knew it all along, of course,” he said smugly.  
“Oh, gross,” she said meaningfully and he almost laughed. “On that note!” She spun and walked back into the dropship, and he thought she was gone when she spoke again from behind him. ”She loves you, Bellamy. I promise.”  
He wanted to make a joke about her keeping promises, but at that moment the smoke house went up in flames.  
And he never really got another chance to speak to her alone until they were leaving.  
You did good here, Bellamy.  
It haunts him.  
She haunts him.

 

 _I wouldn’t even know what to wish for_ , he had told her.  
He’s got some ideas now, as they move towards the prison camp the Grounders keep, Finn’s gunshot still echoing in the air around them hours later.  
Not that he believes in that sort of thing, of course. What good could a wish on a star do?  
But if anyone in their little rescue party notices his lips moving after staring at the night sky for a moment, they don’t mention it.

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing! Please let me know what you thought!


End file.
